


Armored Boots

by Alexthemadhatter7



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Agent Quebec is not a freelancer, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Electrocution, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pip is a cutie, Psychological Torture, Raze is a grump, Swearing, Torture, Transphobia, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexthemadhatter7/pseuds/Alexthemadhatter7
Summary: Agent Quebec trudges through the snow of the icy planet, wind howling around him."The gravity modulator unit appears to be experiencing some unusual activity. I am shutting it down until it can be properly recalibrated."Quebec shakes his head at the red hologram. "Negative Raze. We need that to get down there without breaking the ice."The yellow hologram shuffles nervously, “I agree with Raze. Something doesn’t seem right. We should just go back.""Not an option. Raze, set Gravity to light.""Done. For the record, I still think this is a bad idea.""Your concern is noted."Quebec takes a running jump off the cliff, plummeting towards the frozen ocean. "Raze!" He shouts over the howling wind. "I thought I told you to set the Gravity to light!""I did! It’s not working!" Raze yells back, panic seeping into his voice."Pip, reroute power to-"Static.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. The Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so, I don't know what the heck this is. I've never written fanfic before (although i have certainly read my fair share), but this thing would not leave me alone. So here I am, making it everyone else's problem too. for the record I have dyslexia, so please comment if you notice any spelling or grammar errors. I tried my best to get rid of them but I'm sure some have slipped through the cracks.

Armored boots pound against the forest floor.  
\-------  
The reds stand around a perfectly polished warthog.

"Now that," Sarge declares, "Is beautiful."  
\-------  
One foot in front of the other.

Again.

And again. 

And again.  
\-------  
"I agree sir." Simmons replies, ever the kiss ass.

"I don't know, It was a lot of work." Grif says, rolling his shoulders "And it's just gonna get dirty later so why even bother."  
\-------  
Relentless.

Unceasing.  
\-------  
"¿De qué estás hablando? Ni siquiera tocarte la maldita cosa. Hice todo el trabajo."  
(What are you talking about? You didn't even touch the damn thing. I did all the work.)

"You're right, Lopez," Grif says with a lazy smile. "I do deserve a break."

"Eso no es lo que dije y lo sabes, idiota."  
(That's not what I said and you know it, you asshole.)  
\-------  
They couldn't stop. Not when they were so close. Not when there was so much to lose.  
\-------  
It bursts over the edge of the cliff. Time seems to slow as the reds crane their necks to look. It hovers in the air for a moment, silhouetted by the sun. frozen.

Then it plummets to the ground. 

The reds barely have time to scramble back before it lands on -or rather in- the hood of the warthog. 

No one moves as the figure slowly stands from the wreckage, their jam and steel armor accented sharply by a lime green visor. Their gaze brushes over the stunned reds as they speak, their voice a deep growl.

“Where. Is. Epsilon?”

A thick silence fills the air. 

Lopez falls to his knees, clutching his head, "No!" He cries, "¡No otra vez!"  
(Not Again!)

His cry of Spanish anguish snaps the reds back to reality, guns raising to point at the intruder. Immediately, they begin talking over one other. 

"What in sam hell-"

"What the fu-"

"Oh, I just love the colors-"

"Why can’t we just have a normal vacation?"

The stranger growls again, ignoring the reds in favor of scanning their surroundings.

“Hey guys, whatcha doing?” 

The stranger whips their head around at the sound of Caboose's voice. 

“You!” They demand, “Blue one! Take me to your leader.” 

“Uh, okay.” He says before loudly whispering to the reds, “Who’s the new guy? They seem kinda scary.” 

"Dunno, but he’s your problem now.” Grif says, already walking away.  
——-  
"-and that's why I'm not allowed to drive the warthog anymore." Caboose explains, as he leads the stranger to the blue base. They seem less than interested, but they haven’t stopped the rambling blue. Washington exits the blue base, jogging over to Caboose. 

“Caboose! There you are, Freckles keeps-“ He pauses, staring at the stranger, “Caboose.” He says slowly. “Who is this?” 

“Oh this is- well I don’t really know their name, but they told me to bring them to my leader so... here you go!” He says, presenting Wash to the stranger. 

"No!" The stranger snarls, “Where is your leader? Where is Epsilon?!” 

Caboose looks confused for a moment, “Oh you mean Church? Yeah, he-“ 

Wash cuts him off. “Caboose, let me handle this, why don’t you go play with Freckles. Oh and tell Carolina I’d like to talk to her.”

”Ok!” He agrees, running off into the blue base. 

Wash eyes the stranger carefully. “Why don’t you come with me.”  
——  
The stranger fidgets as they stand in the cell. Their fingers itching to grab hold of their weapons. They glare across the room at their confiscated items as they try to reassure themselves that this was fine. Their goal was almost within reach. It would all be worth it once they found Epsilon.  
——  
”And you're sure he said he was looking for Epsilon?" Carolina asks for the third time. 

Wash sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ”Yes.”

“And you have no idea why?”

”Not a clue.”

Carolina sighs. "Well, let’s at least figure out why he wants Epsilon so bad. Then we can work from there.”  
\------  
As the ex-freelancers enter the room, they hear the stranger muttering quietly. They tear their gaze away from their small pile of possessions and cease their movements as Wash and Carolina enter.

“My name is Agent Washington and this is Agent Carolina.” 

The stranger tilts their head, studying them. ”We know.” Their voice distorts and echos. 

“Why are you looking for Epsilon?” Carolina questions, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed. 

The stranger hisses quietly before answering. “Need help. Epsilon understands. Epsilon helps.”

"Help?" Carolina echos, "Help with what?”

“Usssss.” They hiss, their voice distorting even more, “She is breaking. We are failing. We need Epsilon.” 

Wash's brow furrows, ”Who is breaking? What's wrong?”

The stranger growls again, “There is no time for this! We need Epsilon! Now!"

Wash presses his lips into a fine line, “Look, I’m sorry, but..”

Carolina takes a shaky breath, ”Epsilon is dead. He destroyed himself to save his friends.”

The stranger stumbles back as if struck. “No.” They whisper, sliding down the wall. “No no no no no!” Two voices cry out. “He was the last one! He was our last chance!” Their hands grip tightly at the sides of their helmet.

”We were friends with Epsilon. Maybe we can help.” Wash says, concern laced in his voice.

The stranger mutters to themselves before speaking. “Please,” They beg, their voice lighter and higher than before. “Please can you help her? Can you help us?” They look to Wash, desperate.

”We can try," Wash assures, "but you have to tell us what’s going on.”

The stranger moves to stand, they stumble, collapsing to the ground. Something flickers beside them. Two tiny figures shimmer into view, one yellow and one red. 

“Damn it!” The red one snarls.

The yellow one inspects the crumpled figures helmet. “Looks like we finally ran out of juice, huh?”

“No shit, Sherlock” Red snaps.

Yellow points a finger at red, “Hey, don’t act like this is all my fault, I’m not the one who insisted on using the Gravity modulator to jump off a cliff. We crushed a warthog for Pete’s sake!”

“It was the fastest way down!” 

“We have a speed booster, Raze. We can already do fast!”

While the two figures argue, Wash and Carolina have a mini crisis.

”Are those...” Carolina asks, her voice wavering slightly.

”I think so.”

”Does that mean...”

”I don’t know. But I do know that I promised to help them.” 

Wash steels himself and crouches before the terrifyingly familiar figures.

”Hey, uh, are you two alright?”

The bickering figures jump back in surprise, the red one eyeing him suspiciously.

“Yeah we’re. We’re fine." The yellow one responds, shuffling nervously. Her hand moves to rub the back of her neck as she looks at the body beside her. "But uh, you wouldn’t happen to have like, a doctor or anything like that would you? It’s uh, it's pretty serious.” 

Wash and Carolina share a look. 

Carolina sighs. “I’ll go call Doctor Grey.”  
\---------  
”How’s she doing, doc?” Wash says as he enters the med bay.

”You reds and blues have a way of providing the most fascinating cases, don’t you?" Doctor Grey says, shaking her head fondly. "Really this is the most interesting patient I've had in weeks. Her readings indicate that she's been unconscious for at least 2 weeks, but was somehow still physically active, it’s like she was sleep sprinting or something! But that’s nothing compared to the hardware she's got installed.” 

Wash's brow furrows, “In her suit?”

”In her head! If I didn’t know better I’d say it’s Ai," she shakes her head. "But we both know that’s not possible. Besides," she laughs, "You can’t have two Ai in one person. Not at the same time.” 

Carolina appears in the doorway. ”What did you just say?”

”One person can’t handle having two Ai installed at once?” Dr. Grey repeats, somewhat confused.

Carolina's gaze is as cold and hard as steel, ”No, _why_ did you say that.”

Wash looks back at the unconscious anomaly. 

“Because it looks like our friend here has just disproved that.”


	2. The Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How they got to where they are.

The soft thump of steel gray boots is the only sound aside from the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor. Wash shifts his weight from one foot to the other before clearing his throat.

”Hey uh, Raze and Pip was it? Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Raze materializes by the stranger's head. “What do you want, _Freelancer_ ?” 

Pip appears and elbows him, “Be polite” She hisses, before turning to Wash. “How can we help Agent Washington?” She chirps. 

Wash cringes slightly, “Just Wash is fine. I was hoping you two could tell me what’s going on.”

“It’s a long one.” Pip warns.

“I’ve got time.” 

Pip turns to Raze, staring at him. Raze holds his ground for a moment before huffing and crossing his arms. “Fine, fine. We can tell him. But not here, to many prying eyes.” 

“Great!” Wash moves to leave.

“Wait! You have to take us with you!” Pip shouts.

“Oh. Right. Uh, how exactly do I do that? I can’t exactly wheel this whole setup around.” 

Raze gives him a look. “What do you mean ‘How do I do that?’ I thought you-” 

Pip interrupts him, “Stop that, you and I both know we don’t work the same as the freelancer Ais.” Pip turns back to Wash, “It’s ok, I’ll walk you through it. Just take off her helmet and look on the right side of her head.” Wash follows the instructions. “Now, you see those two cards? That’s us. Now Raze and I activate release mode.” The light on one of the card ports turns blue. She elbows Raze again. “I said, _release mode_ .” Raze grunts. The second light turns blue. “Now just gently slide the cards out and, voila! We can be moved freely.” 

Wash carefully holds the two cards in his hand. 

“You confiscated our transport box," Raze points out, "It should still be with the rest of our stuff." 

Wash nods, gently setting the chips down, and leaves to retrieve the box. 

Once he’s sure the freelancer is gone, Raze looks to Pip. "Are you sure about this?" He asks, his voice uncharacteristically soft. 

Pip wavers for a moment, still staring at the doorway. "Yes." she says, "I don't think he would have offered to help us before even knowing what we are if he was really a bad guy."  
"Besides," she says, turning to face her brother. "What other choice do we have?"  
\------  
The hinges creak as the door to the interrogation room swings open. Carolina turns to Wash as he enters, giving him a questioning look. Wash ignores it, setting the small box on the center of the table and taking a seat. The Ai pop into view, standing side by side on the table. Upon seeing Carolina, Raze takes a defensive step back. 

"What's _she_ doing here?" He demands. Pip moves to grab his arm. 

”I hope you don’t mind, but I think Carolina will want to hear this too.” 

Pip and Raze have a silent conversation before Raze relents. "Fine," he grumbles. "She can stay."

"Where would you like us to start?" Pip asks, trying to redirect the conversation.

"Wherever you think is best, I suppose."

Pip shoots Raze a look and he sighs through his nose, turning to the freelancers.

“We are artificial intelligence programs created by Promethean Industries.” He states blandly, tensing as he waits for their reaction. 

Pip steps forward, drawing the attention away from her brother. ”From what we can tell, they saw how powerful the freelancer Ais were and basically went, ‘Hey, what if we did that, but with even less regard for human life?’" She jokes weakly. "So that’s what they did...or tried to do at least.” 

"They managed to create fragment Ais. We’re still not sure how exactly.” Raze admits. 

”The problem was, they weren’t nearly as strong as freelancer Ais. They could still run the more powerful suit enhancements, sure, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t good enough.”

Raze squares his shoulders. ”I was one of the first Ais they created, one of the stronger one too. I've seen what implantation does to people." He glares at the floor. "I’ve lost count of how many people I've seen driven insane and die.”

”Loner types are far more likely to have a negative reaction to suddenly having another person in their head that they are forced to work with.” Pip explains weakly. 

”Eventually, they found some people that could actually work with Ai, If only by process of elimination.” 

”And that’s where Quebec comes in.”

”Quebec?” Carolina questions. 

”The one lying in your med bay, duh.” Pip says, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

”I was Agent Quebec’s first Ai implant." Raze explains. "My previous host had ‘removed himself from the program’ so to speak, so they gave me to the new kid.”

”But this time," Pip continues, "It worked. They started sending them out on more missions, increased their training regiment, installing new gear, the whole shebang.”

”But it still wasn’t enough. We still weren’t as good as the freelancers had been. That is, until they had an idea.”

Pip looks to the freelancers.”If one Ai is good, wouldn’t two be better?”

Carolina looks away.

“At this point, I had just been created." Pip explains, "A brand new Ai with no idea what was going on, getting shoved into strangers heads." Her holographic arms move to wrap around her. "I killed 6 people before I was assigned to Agent Quebec.” She goes quiet for a moment. “I was terrified, all I knew was that my presence was killing people.” 

Raze grips her shoulder firmly. ”No. You didn’t kill anyone, those bastards did by trying to play god.” He Insists, rage bubbling within him.

He turns back to Wash and Carolina, calming himself before he speaks again. 

”Quebec and I were selected for an ‘upgrade’, they didn’t specify what exactly.” He turns to look at his sister. “Next thing we knew, there was Pip.” 

”They welcomed me, or at least Quebec did.” She elbows Raze playfully, “It took Mr. Grumpy here a while to adjust.” 

Raze rolls his eyes at Pip, but continues, ”As we recovered from the implantation and got to know each other, we compared notes and came to some pretty grim conclusions."

”Given our previous experiences in the program, it was safe to assume that they had killed a lot of people, and they would have no qualms about doing the same to Quebec, should she step out of line.”

”Clearly, that was not an option. She was the first person to show us any degree of kindness in our entire existence. We had to keep her safe.” 

”And since we couldn’t do that there. We decided it was time to leave.” 

Wash raises an eyebrow, ”So, what, you just walked out?”

”Oh god no,” she laughs, “that would be a death sentence all on its own." She says, shaking her head. "No, we had to do things carefully." 

”We jumped off a cliff.” Raze deadpans. 

Pip smacks his arm, ”It was more complicated than that!” She turns back to the Freelancers. “We were sent on a mission to investigate the Metas last known location and see if we could find anything useful."  
\------  
Agent Quebec trudges through the snow of the icy planet, wind howling around him. His comms crackle to life and he speaks, "Command this is Agent Quebec, I have reached the site and will be heading down shortly. Do you read me? Over."

"We read you, Agent. Proceed with the mission." A staticy voice replies. "Leave your comms on, we don't know what to expect down there. Over."

"Affirmative Command, Proceeding. Over."

A couple seconds pass before another voice speaks. "The gravity modulator unit appears to be experiencing some unusual activity. I am shutting it down until it can be properly recalibrated." 

Quebec shakes his head at the red hologram. "Negative Raze. We need that to get down there without breaking the ice."

Pip shuffles nervously, “I agree with Raze. Something doesn’t seem right. We should just go back." 

"Not an option. Raze, set Gravity to light."

"Done. For the record I still think this is a bad idea."

"Your concern is noted."

Quebec takes a running jump off the cliff. They begin to plummet. "Raze!" He shouts over the howling wind. "I thought I told you to set the Gravity to light!" 

"I did! It’s not working!" Raze yells back, panic seeping into his voice.

"Pip, reroute power to-" 

Static.  
\-------  
"Wait, so how did you survive? That should have killed her." Wash asks, confused.

Pip laughs, “That’s the point silly, it _should_ have killed her.”

Raze smirks. "The Gravity modulator was fine, we just set it to heavy so we crashed through the ice and cut all communications at the same time."

"Then we used the speed booster to get the heck out of there before we could freeze to death."

"There was just one problem." Raze admits. 

"Quebec wasn’t waking up."  
\-------  
The icy cliff lays barren. Far below, chunks of ice crash together in a jagged hole punched through the ice. Rays of sunlight dance across a lime green visor as the two toned suit sinks deeper and deeper.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. We did it! It worked!" Pip cheers, "Quebec, we can-“ She pauses. “Quebec? Quebec! Raze, is he-"

”He’s alive. Just unconscious, it appears our impact with the ice was harder than intended.”

“Oh thank god” Pip sighs, her shoulders slumping.

”I’ll take the wheel, you keep him stable.”

Pip nods, ”On it.”  
\-------  
"From there it was just a matter of finding someone who could help us. Once we found out what happened to Project Freelancer, it was a pretty easy choice. I mean, another escaped Ai? It was perfect. All we had to do was find him.” Pip explains.

Raze snorts. “But you both know how that worked out.” 

”And now we’re here.”


	3. The Hostage Situation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quebec wakes up and makes some friends.

Quebec squints against the bright lights, turning her head to the side to try and avoid them. On instinct she reaches out to the front of her mind. "Raze, Pip, could one of you dim the visor please?" 

No response.

Her ears perk up. Footsteps, two people if she's correct. She makes an effort to keep her breathing even despite her rising panic. As the sources of the noise moves closer she starts to pick up on some sort of argument. 

”I’m telling you dude, that’s a chick. I’ve got like, a sixth sense for this kinda thing.” Tucker insists.

Grif snorts at him. ”Yeah right, you thought _Donut_ was a girl. Besides, Did you hear their voice? They’re clearly a dude.” Out of the corner of her eye Quebec spots two soldiers entering the room, both armed. 

"Voices don't mean anything, we thought Tex was a guy right up until her voice changer thingy broke." 

Wait-

Tex. 

Texas. 

Agent Texas of Project Freelancer.

...Shit.

In a flash of movement, Quebec has the teal soldier in headlock with his pistol -now hers- wedged under his chin. She backs them slowly away from the orange one, who has his gun trained on her. Dimly, she registers that the colorful soldiers each let out a cry of "Holy shit!" as she moved. ”Woah! Why don’t we just talk this out. No one needs to get shot.” Tucker suggests nervously.

”Where are they? What did you do with them?” Quebec demands.

"I don't kn-" The arm around his neck tightens. 

"Lets just calm down." Grif says, trying to keep his idiot friend from getting himself shot. "We don’t want to hurt you.” 

Quebec scoffs. “Answer my question, or I shoot.” 

Wash runs into the room, having heard the shouting from earlier. ”What’s going on- oh. Shit.”

"You?" Quebec gasps softly, her grip loosening a fraction. She shakes her head. ”Where are they?” She snarls, pressing the gun against Tucker’s neck. “Answer me!” 

Carolina runs in, transport box in hand. Quebec's grip tightens again and Tucker struggles for air. ”It’s ok! It’s ok, they’re right here." Carolina says carefully. "Now how about we give you your friends, and you give us our friend, and nobody gets shot?" 

Quebec growls, eyeing the box. “Prove it.” 

Slowly, Carolina sets the box on the floor, sliding it between the two groups. Two holographic projections flicker into view. ”It’s ok." Raze assures. "We’re ok. We escaped.”

”These guys aren’t gonna hurt us, they just want to help.” Pip soothes. Quebec’s shoulders slump, and she holsters the stolen gun. Without taking her eyes off the holograms she throws Tucker out of the way, knocking over medical equipment as he flies across the room. She stumbles over and falls to her knees by the box. Carefully picking it up and hugging it to her chest. Pip and Raze move to float around her head.

“Is anyone gonna explain what the hell just happened?” Tucker groans from the pile of broken equipment.

”I’m out. I refuse to get involved in whatever the heck this is.” Grif declares as he walks off. 

\-------

Shaking hands fumble to unlock the clasps of a helmet the color of raspberry jam and steel. Tiny voices murmur words of comfort. The helmet comes off with a hiss and careful hands slot the chips back into place, brushing past the metal plating that frames their face. The holographic projections vanish. Securing the helmet and pocketing the box, Quebec slowly stands, staring at the ex-freelancers.

While she stares, Pip and Raze -now comfortably back in her head- work to fill her in on the situation. ”-And then we jumped off _another_ cliff and kinda crushed a warthog-" Pip says with a slight wince. 

”- So we tried to get them to take us to Epsilon."

”But it turns out he’s dead. Then the guy in the gray and yellow suit-"

”Agent Washington: Ex freelancer.” Raze reminds her. 

”Yeah, him. He said he wanted to help us, but we had to tell him what was wrong.”

”Then the suit finally ran out of power.”

”So we had to reveal ourselves.”

”Then they called in a Doctor to help you.” 

”But Wash still wanted to know what's going on."

”So we had to disconnect for a bit to explain everything.”

”And then you woke up.” Pip chirps happily.

Wash is the one to finally break the uncomfortable silence. ”So,” He clears his throat. “I’m Agent Washington, and this is Agent Carolina. And you are?"

”Agent-“ She hesitates. "Quebec. Just Quebec is fine.”

Carolina shifts slightly. ”Well, it’s nice to meet you Quebec.” 

”...Likewise.”  
Tucker finally stands up, holding his head. ”Seriously, is no one going to tell me what’s going on?”

\------

Tucker watches on in an odd mix of horror and awe as Quebec devours what seems to be half the kitchen. “Damn.”

”Yeah” Grif agrees.

“The only person I’ve seen eat that fast before is you, Grif.”

Grif snorts at Simmons' comment. “I’ve done faster.”

Tucker turns to Grif, “Hey, we can finally settle that bet.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” Simmons warns, “Did you see what they did to the warthog?"

“Yeah,” Grif agrees, “and they already took you hostage once today."

“I had that completely under control.” Tucker insists. “I’ll be fine. Watch." Tucker walks over to where Quebec is sitting. ”Hey uh-“ He pauses, realizing he doesn’t actually know their name.

”...Quebec.”

”Quebec. Right. See, Grif was wondering-“

”Hey!” The orange soldier shouts indignantly.

”Fine," Tucker amends. " _we_ were wondering, are you a dude or a chick?” 

Quebec stares for a moment. ”Why?”

Tucker hesitates. That was not a response he was prepared for. ”Uhhh-“

Simmons shouts across the room, interrupting Tucker’s fumble. ”He made a bet on it.”

As the silence stretches on, Tucker realizes, he may have just fucked up. Quebec turns slowly, looking him dead in the eyes. ”...I’d recommend backing away. Slowly. Before I let Raze rip your throat out.” Tucker's eyes go wide and he chuckles nervously. He takes a few steps back before bolting. Quebec turns back to their food and resumes eating, albeit much slower than before. They sit, lost in thought until a loud voice startles them.

”Hello! My name is Caboose and I use He/Him pronouns, it’s nice to meet you! What's your name? Do you have any preferred pronouns?”

They jump, whirling around to find a blue soldier in mark V armor. They stare for a moment, trying to process what he just said. ”I use any and all pronouns. Thanks for asking.” They reply, rather shocked that someone actually asked politely. "And my name's Quebec."

Caboose smiles, "It’s nice to meet you, Quebec!" He leans down and loudly whispers, "Did I do it right? Donuts been helping me practice but I still get it wrong sometimes.”

”Yeah. Yeah, you did good. Would you, uh, would you like to sit down?”

”Ok!”

\-------

Simmons sighs, sliding his helmet off and massaging his temples. He knew that the new Agent -who apparently had no connection to project freelancer as far as they could tell- meant trouble had once again found the reds and blues. He leans his head back against the chair, and finally notices the figure standing in the doorway. He squawks, the chair tipping backward as he flails. Quebec rushes forward, catching the chair and uprighting it before he can hit the ground. They step back, giving him some space. 

“Thanks.” He breathes. They nod. 

“So.” He clears his throat. “I uh, I take it you’re feeling better?” They nod. 

“Good, good.” He says, desperately wracking his brain for anything he could use for small talk. “Sorry about Tucker, he can be kind of a dick sometimes.”

They tilt their head at him, then gesture to the side of their face. 

“What? Is, Is there something on my face?” He asks, his hand reaching up to brush his cheek. His hand meets smooth metal. “Oh!” He exclaims, “You mean my Cybernetics?” They nod.

“Yeah, I’m a cyborg. Pretty cool, huh?” 

Their hands start to move towards their helmet. They hesitate, dropping their hands and looking down. Suddenly, one hand jumps up and they snap. They look back at Simmons and point at him, then gesture to the left side of their face again. Simmons blinks, “Charades?” He asks. Quebec nods.

“Ok, I’ll do my best.” He reluctantly agrees. Quebec repeats the gestures from before, pointing at him and gesturing to their face. “Me? Cybernetics?” Quebec snaps again. “Ok.” he says, still confused. They point to themselves, then gesture to both sides of their face “You?” he squints, “Cybernetics?” His eyes widen. “Oh! You have cybernetics too?” Quebec snaps again, looking pleased. “Wait.” He says, confused. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? What’s with the charades?”

They freeze, hands snapping to their sides. Simmons’s cybernetics alert him to a rapid increase in heart rate. “Never mind!” He flounders, “It’s fine, you- you don’t have to tell me-” 

A yellow projection interrupts him. “We would appreciate it if you left the room for a time while we get this under control.” 

He blinks. “Uh, sure, I can, I’ll just,” he points a thumb to the door, “Yeah.”

———

Simmons leans against the wall as he tries to process what the hell just happened. Ok. This is fine. He just needs to organize what he saw and… and something. He’d figure that part out later. He sucks in a breath. Ok. That was an Ai. He knew that. Grif had mentioned something about a hostage situation, but he never would have guessed that would have have to deal with-  
He squeezes his eyes shut. Focus, Simmons. What’s next? Quebec has cybernetics -which is actually pretty cool when he thinks about it- and for some reason they can’t talk about it. Just asking about it sent them into a panic attack. Which does explain why they used charades when he knew for a fact they could talk. He pushes off the wall and starts walking. He needed to talk to Wash and Carolina about this...

———

Quebec sits, leaning against the rough bark of the pine tree. They fiddle with a blade of grass, tying it into careful knots. “There you are!” A voice calls out. The blade of grass snaps. They look over at the pink soldier approaching them. “Caboose mentioned that our special guest had woken up. The names Donut, he/him,” he greets, “and you must be Quebec. I gotta say, I love your armor. What color is that? Deep raspberry? Dark watermelon?” Quebec blinks at him, they look away and mumble something. “Sorry, what was that?”

“It’s... it’s jam. My armor is jam.” They say, a little louder this time. 

“Jam,” he smiles, “Well, it’s a lovely color. It complements the lime of your visor perfectly, really makes it pop.” 

“Thanks.” Quebec smiles weakly. “I like it too.” Quebec clears their throat, “I uh, I use any and all pronouns. Since you, you know, said yours and all..” They trail off. 

“Oh I know, Caboose told me. He’s so excited to have a new friend. He ran all around both bases just to tell everyone.”

“Friend?” Quebec says, disbelief woven in their voice. “I took his teammate hostage then threatened to shoot him and rip out his throat. I’ve known the guy for like 5 minutes, most of which was just me eating. Why in the world would he call me his friend?” 

Donut just shrugs. “That’s Caboose for ya. Seriously, he somehow managed to befriend a robot with machine guns for arms. Trust me,” He shakes his head. “Nothings gonna stop him.” 

\-------

Quebec sits on the roof of the blue base, armored boots dangling over the edge as they stare at the sunset. They hear footsteps behind them and turn to see the teal soldier -the one they took hostage- approaching them. ”Hey uh, I’m not really sure how to say this but...sorry for being a dick early. With the whole betting on your gender thing.”

Quebec hums. “Apology accepted. Sorry for taking you hostage.”

”Eh, it’s cool.” He says. The silence stretches between them. ”So uh, are you like non-binary or something?”

”Yup. Promethean Industries surgically removed my gender to make room for Pip and Raze.” They reply, completely deadpan. 

”Wait, what? They can do that?” He asks, alarmed.

”No.”

"Oh.”

Quebec stands. ”It’s getting late. Is there like, a place I can sleep or something? Apparently I've been running on fumes for weeks.”

”Yeah, sure." Tucker says. "Follow me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is probably gonna be the last chapter for a bit. At least until i get more scene ideas. As always, i hope you enjoyed, see ya when i see ya. :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this that means you actually read whatever the heck that was. Neat. feedback is appreciated, hope you enjoyed. :)


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